


A pint of bitter and a cider

by FloreatCastellum



Series: Slice of Life One-Shots [44]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Family, Family Fluff, Father-Son Relationship, Fatherhood, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-30
Updated: 2019-04-30
Packaged: 2020-02-10 12:30:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,799
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18660490
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FloreatCastellum/pseuds/FloreatCastellum
Summary: Concerned by his son's out of character moodiness, Harry takes him to the pub.





	A pint of bitter and a cider

The car park was crunchy with grit, only occasional patches of slippery ice and a thin line of grey, mushy snow clinging around the edges of the kerbs. The family was attracting some level of curious stares, possibly due to the two squawking owls and mewling cat being clutched by three teenagers as their father heaved heavy trunks - more than could reasonably fit, surely - into the boot of the car.

’-And Professor Longbottom says that I could expect full marks in the exam if I keep it up-’ Lily was saying excitably to her mother, who couldn’t get a word in edge-ways. 

‘But I’d be back on Christmas Eve-’ Al was saying longingly to his father. 

'Well, hang on, that’s a long time-’ Harry was saying back as he struggled with the last of the trunks. 

'Not really, you used to spend all holidays with the Weasleys…’

'That’s because I had no where else to go, Al, you’re not quite as deprived of people who want to see you - grab that end, would you?' 

Al put his cat’s basket down, and hurried forward to grab the end of the trunk Harry was at risk of dropping. They slid it into the boot, and then Harry leaned back, panting. Al immediately picked up his campaign again. 

'Mr Malfoy says I can Floo straight there and back, you wouldn’t have to see him.' 

'That’s not the issue,’ said Harry, still breathless as he took James’s owl from him. 'It’s just a long time - nearly the whole break. Can’t Scorpius come to ours for some of it? Lily - come put Agamemnon in the boot.' 

'Can’t I have him on my lap?' 

'No, don’t be silly, just put him in here, he’ll be all right.’

'I’ll ask him,’ Al continued, quite used to interruptions. 'But, you know, it’s just him and his dad, our family’s a bit much for him.’

The family piled into the car, Harry and Ginny playing a quick game of rock, paper, scissors to see who would have to drive. Ginny lost, and with a playful groan got into the drivers seat. 

'Well he’ll just have to get used to our family,’ she said, glancing in the mirror to look at her son as she pulled out of the parking space. 'We’re not that bad, are we?' 

Al pulled a face, but muttered, 'I’ll ask him.’

Lily leaned forward, completely oblivious to the potential for her to be in the way as her mother tried to drive out of the car park, and started to fiddle with the car radio. 'Yes! I love this song!’ she cried gleefully, as something poppy and repetitive started to blare out. 

'No…' 

'Lily, please!' 

'Anything else…' 

'Too late!’ she said happily. 'That’s the rule we made, no changing songs until they finish, 'cos it just causes arguments.' 

'This will cause an argument,’ said Al snidely, but she ignored him, singing along and dancing in her seat.

Harry glanced up into the rear-view mirror at his eldest, who was staring moodily out of the window. 'You’re quiet, James,’ he said. Silence. 'James.' 

Al elbowed him. 

'Ow! What?' 

'Dad’s talking to you!' 

'What?’ James demanded. 

'I said you’re quiet today.' 

'Yep,’ said James snappily, turning to look out the window again. Harry and Ginny exchanged a bemused glance.

Lily leaned forward again, clutching the back of her father’s seat. 'Dad, Elsie in my dorm, she has her bellybutton pierced.' 

'Good for her.' 

'Can I-’

He laughed darkly. 'No.' 

'Mum already said yes-’

'That doesn’t work when I’m right here, Lily,’ said Ginny.

'But you wouldn’t mind, would you, Mum? Would you?' 

The drive back to Devon was quicker than one would expect in a normal car, but as Lily managed to dominate the radio Harry thought it seemed a lot longer than it should have been. But soon enough they were splashing through the melted puddles of snow on their winding lane and pulling up in the driveway of Sparrow Cottage, Lily still jabbering away about anything that popped into her mind. 

James had said nothing the entire journey, and as Harry enchanted the trunks to float easily into the house, he watched as his eldest son slammed the car door furiously and marched off. He looked at Ginny again. 

'You talk to him,’ she said firmly. 

'Me? Aren’t teenage hormones your area?’

'He looks up to you,’ she said. 

'He’s upset because Sarah ditched him yesterday,’ said Lily, as she took her owl out of the boot. Harry and Ginny looked at her, and she shrugged. 'The whole common room is gossiping about it.' 

So it was with some trepidation that Harry climbed the stairs and tentatively knocked on his son’s door, from which furious, screaming music was pounding. 

'Go away!' 

Harry ignored him, and opened the door to see his son lying on his bed, one arm slung over his eyes. Harry pointed his wand at the wireless, and the deafening music stopped abruptly. 

James sat up furiously. 'I was listening to that!' 

Harry looked at his son’s slightly red eyes and furrowed brow. 'You all right?' 

'What’s Lily told you?’ James demanded. 'Because I dumped her, all right? She was getting all- all clingy and… needy.' 

Harry tilted his head and hissed slightly. 'Hate it when that happens. Want to go to the pub?' 

James was silent for a moment, clearly a little taken aback. 'Yeah, all right,’ he said, with a casual shrug. 

They had not done this before - James wasn’t of age for another couple of months, and certainly not old enough to go in the muggle pub in the village. But Harry was aware that his son was familiar with the White Lion, and had been for at least a year or two - he was fairly sure his godson had something to do with it. 

'Got your fake ID?’ he asked him. James looked slightly disconcerted. 'It’s not a trick,’ Harry promised him. 'I’m turning a blind eye.' 

James nodded, grabbed his wallet from his desk, and followed his father out, grabbing his discarded coat off the floor as he went. 

It was dark already, despite it having only just gone five. Harry cast lumos as they walked down the damp, grey lane, sending a pheasant scattering. The blue-ish white light of the wand made the remains of the snow glitter. 'Reckon we’ll get snow for Christmas?’ Harry asked lightly, but James just made a non-committal hum and trudged along beside him, staring at his shoes. 

They had to walk along a footpath that went through fields and over a railway track to get to the pub, so remote was their cottage, but Harry loved the seclusion and the peace of it. On pleasant days, dog walkers and ramblers were common along here, but in the depths of winter or in the winding down of the evening, it became a place just for him and his family. 

'Look,’ he whispered, grasping James’s shoulder and nodding. James looked up from his feet in time to see a deer, startled by their presence, stumble clumsily out of a bush and bound away across the field. 

They watched it vanish into the dusk, and then walked on. James looked at his father. They were almost the same height now; Harry had only an inch or two on him. 'Why did you invite me to the pub?’ he asked. 'You could have had a heart to heart with me in my room.' 

'Oh, you know Lily would have interrupted us,’ said Harry mildly. They reached a fence, which Harry hoped over easily, and then helped James, even though he didn’t need it. 

'Well go on then,’ said James resentfully. 'Ask me about it all. Start your big life lesson.' 

'Ah, James, you know I’m no good at that,’ said Harry. 'I just thought you might want some peace and quiet away from your siblings.' 

'Scorpius has got a point, you know, we are a lot,’ said James. 'Even before we get dragged to the Burrow.' 

Harry grinned. 'Yes, I suppose we are.' 

They went over a little wooden bridge, where the stream pooled around a small waterfall, and the lights from the houses at the edge of the village were reflected in the dark water. The children swam here in the summers when they were younger, and it had always made Harry nervous when they leapt from the waterfall, sure that they would one day split their heads open on a rock or get tangled in some weeds and drown. But Ginny had always stopped him from forbidding it, and now he was glad. He could still hear Lily’s shrieks and squeals as she leapt into the cold water, could still see Teddy chucking James in, could still remember the way Al would always bring him handfuls of frogspawn or jars of tiny tiddler fish the had found under the bridge. 

'I whacked my head here once,’ said James suddenly. 'I slipped off that bank, there was blood everywhere. Mum told me not to tell you.' 

Harry looked at him, exasperated. 'I was just having a nice moment, remembering you all swimming there. Why would you tell me that now?' 

'I was all right, wasn’t I? I’d completely forgotten about it, just remembered now. Thought it was funny.' 

'Hit your head quite hard, did you?' 

'Yeah, a bit.' 

'Explains a lot.' 

They walked up the lane of the village, signs of muggle life starting to come into focus. The red telephone box, the lamp post, the occasional car which rumbled past. The string of large bulb lights outside the pub were inviting, the sounds of laughter could already be heard from quite far away. A curl of smoke rose from the chimney. 

They went in, and Harry directed James to one of the few free tables by the fire. By the time he returned from the bar with a pint of bitter for himself and a cider for James, his son had already found the pub dog and was rubbing her fluffy ears while she rested her head on his lap. 

'Didn’t need your ID after all,’ said Harry. 

'Yeah you never do if you’re with a grown up,’ said James. 'Ted always makes himself look like you for us.' 

Harry raised an eyebrow. 'Who’s “us”? Who else is he helping sneak in here?' 

'Just me,’ said James swiftly. 'I meant us in the Devon sense. You know. Farmer language.' 

'Hmm.' 

James took his his hands away from the golden retriever and picked up the cider. They clinked their glasses together with a mumbled 'cheers’, and drank together in an easy silence, enjoying the low murmur of the pub and the crackle of the fire. 

Eventually, eyes downcast at the beer mat he was tearing up, dog still panting happily beside him, James admitted to his father that it was Sarah that had dumped him, not the other way around. 

'Did she say why?’ asked Harry. Even in the low, warm light of the pub, Harry could see James blush. 'You don’t have to,’ he told him reassuringly.

James drank from his cider again, and then looked down at the dog, rubbing her head. 'Did you ever get dumped?’ he asked. 

'Erm… Sort of,’ said Harry. 'Well… No, not really. I only had one girlfriend before your mum, and we just sort of fell apart.' 

James looked up at him disbelievingly. 'You only had one girlfriend before Mum?' 

Harry grinned. 'Yes. We went on a grand total of one date. It was a disaster. One of those things that pops into your head while you’re trying to sleep even all these years later. I lie there cringing about it.' 

'I… I’d have thought you’d have had loads of girlfriends,’ said James, turning even pinker. 'You know, the whole fame thing.' 

'Not as helpful as you would think,’ said Harry lightly. 

'What if there’d been someone better than mum though?’ asked James, returning to tear up his beer mat even further. 'What if… What if you wanted to see what else was out there, to see if someone else could make you happier?’ His voice wobbled a bit. 'What if you didn’t want to be tied down?’

'Well,’ said Harry slowly, 'that was never a concern for us. We’d had enough upheaval elsewhere. It wasn’t that we were settling, we just knew what was right when we found it.' 

James nodded and swallowed, still shredding the mat. 

'And you will too,’ said Harry gently. 'Even if you go through a few more than me.' 

'I didn’t want to,’ said James. 'I thought…’ But embarrassment silenced him again, and the dog nudged his elbow with her nose for attention. 

'It will pass, James,’ said Harry. 'You’re quite entitled to feel miserable, and I thoroughly approve - someone once told me it’s pain that makes us human. But you’re not quite seventeen yet. The pain will pass.' 

'Probably seems like I’m whining over a big old nothing to you,’ said James irritably. 

'Did you not hear me telling you I still cringe about a date I had when I was fifteen?' 

'Not the same,’ said James. 'No one’s died, no one’s-’

'But you’re still hurt, that’s all right,’ said Harry. 'And I’m sorry if I can’t empathise with you in the way you want - believe me I would like to.’ He huffed. 'I spend my life wondering what to do while people cry about stuff to me.' 

'I’m not crying,’ saying James indignantly, but he looked relieved. 'I don’t know… Maybe I’ll toughen up in Auror training.' 

Harry spluttered on his bitter. 'Excuse me?' 

'I didn’t tell you?’ said James, who to his credit looked genuinely surprised at Harry’s reaction. 'Yeah, I’ve been working on my application - at least I told you now before it landed on your desk I suppose.' 

Harry gaped at him. 'Well… As we’re related, I wouldn’t handle it, it would have to go to- hang on, sorry, when did you decide on this career path?' 

'Oh, ages ago,’ said James. 'I thought you knew. I’ve spoken to Mum about it. I think. Anyway, when I, you know, got my surprise good marks in O.W.Ls it felt like a more reasonable goal.' 

'Right,’ said Harry weakly. He thought of the many horrible things he had seen over his career. The aurors, talented people, he had seen killed or maimed or psychologically damaged. He looked at his son’s handsome, perfect, freckled face and imagined a huge scar across it. 'What about Quidditch?’ he asked him. 'You’re so good, James, I’m sure-’

'Ugh, no,’ said James with distaste. 'All those interviews Mum always has to do, and have you seen the cameras at the matches? They’re always a bit screwed up, Quidditch players aren’t they? The fame gets to them, I reckon. Mum excepted, of course.' 

'Of course,’ said Harry vaguely. 'But, you know, you don’t have to play it, there’s an entire industry behind it, or the department for Magical Games and-’

'You don’t think I’d be a good auror?’ James asked him, looking crestfallen. 

'You would,’ said Harry bitterly. 'You’d be good at it. You’d be really good.' 

'You don’t think we could work together?' 

Harry hesitated. 'I just… I’m the one who assigns cases, and sends people out there, and I don’t think I could assign my own son to any of the stuff that lands on my desk. Or,’ he added fervently, 'battle alongside him without constantly casting shield charms over him.' 

James drank the last of his cider. 'You’ll have to retire then.' 

Harry laughed slightly - part in amusement, part in devastated disbelief that he had somehow raised someone just as prone to looking for trouble as himself. 

'Oh,’ said James suddenly, clearly remembering something. 'No, I did talk to Mum about it. She told me not to tell you.' 

'Right,’ said Harry. 'Anything else she’s told you to keep secret for the sake of my nerves?' 

James considered. 'I received a death threat at school once, the teachers got involved and everything. It said it was from a Death Eater but it turned out to just be one of the Slytherins.' 

'OK.' 

'Also, when we were on that holiday a few summers ago and you asked where me and mum and Teddy had been all afternoon, we hadn’t just got lost, it was that I got stuck in a cave and it was gradually filling with water, so Teddy had to go and get mum and she had to cut through the rock to get me out without the cliff collapsing. It was fine though.' 

'I’m going to get another pint,’ said Harry abruptly. 'What do you want?’

'Whiskey.' 

'What do you really want?' 

'Cider is fine.'


End file.
